Only A Dream
by cosmo-queen
Summary: Faramir comforts a distressed Éowyn as a nightmare of the Witch-King haunts her.


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DISCLAIMER: Everything and anything Lord of the Rings related belongs to the biggest genius that ever lived, J.R.R Tolkien. Not me. 

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**__**

ONLY A DREAM

The night air was cool and crisp, yet it was not cold, despite the fact that it had been a grey, blustery day, with the occasional shower. The sudden drop in temperature had been a refreshing change for the land, which had suffered some uncharacteristically warm weather, even though it was only mid-spring. It was these seemingly insignificant thoughts that crossed Faramir's mind, as he stood outside, a tall silent shadow in the darkness, overlooking the country which had been entrusted to his rule.

It was well past midnight, but Faramir did not feel tired. He had always considered himself to be a night lover, appreciating the peace and quiet that came with its darkness while others slept. It was the best time to read, to think, to reflect without interruption. Indeed, the Prince of Ithilien had been thinking while staring at the shadows in his study. But the room had become uncomfortably warm, and the shadows too disturbing, and so he had escaped outdoors with a cup of cold tea that he made for Éowyn, but which she had not drunk. 

Indeed, it was Éowyn that was troubling Faramir's thoughts. She seemed distant. It was not purposeful, but Faramir could sense something was plaguing his wife. She tried to hide it, and though she was skilled at concealing her emotions, having done so much of her life, Faramir knew his wife well enough now to know when something was wrong. She did not have to say anything, not that she would have allowed words to betray her troubles anyway, but Faramir noted how she always seemed tired and spiritless, despite the fact that she retired to bed early and woke up late. Indeed, tonight she had gone to bed just after nine, complaining of a headache. In the past though, she had often stayed up past midnight herself. Éowyn loved to sneak into his study and playfully tease that she must be distracting her husband. It was one interruption that Faramir did not mind in the slightest, and often afterwards, they would go outside and delight in the stars.

The wind sighed as of in reply to Faramir's worries, and, realising that the breeze now felt sharp against his face, he decided to go to bed. He missed Éowyn's company dearly, but even if she had been at his side, there were no visible stars to enjoy tonight. Instead, the sky was covered by a mass of clouds which foreshadowed the morning would probably again be dreary. They looked odd against the dark sky, almost as if white flames were dancing on night's curtains. Faramir only hurried inside faster. He did not much like the clouds for he often discerned in them the face of the past, which would then haunt his dreams and make him question his sanity.

He crept inside, shutting the door as silently as he could behind him. Placing the empty tea-cup on a nearby bench, Faramir walked down the hallway to his bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and before he had the chance to open it further, it came to his attention that Éowyn's breathing was unusually loud and sounded somewhat laboured, almost as if she struggled to breathe. Concerned, Faramir pushed the door open, and though the room was completely dark, his eyes quickly adjusted on the pale figure of his wife, who twisted and turned in her sleep, obviously distressed. Not bothering to change into his nightwear, the anxious Prince rushed to his wife's side. As he softly sat down on the bed and turned to face her, he noticed sweat glistening on her crinkled brow. Her entire face seemed pained. All the while, her lips were moving, though no sound escaped them, and Faramir quickly realised that it was his name she mouthed.

Cursing himself for not paying more attention to his wife, thus allowing her to suffer whatever nightmare she was now having, he gently scooped her into his arms in apology. He was horrified to feel that, though he was holding her tight, she felt wasted away. How could he not have noticed? Wiping her moistened brow, Faramir softly pressed her to his chest, as a mother does her distressed child, and whispered in as reassuring a voice as he could find, that he was here for her now. He looked down at his wife. Though she seemed comforted to be in his safe arms, Faramir was pained to see she was still not fully calmed.

"Éowyn," he whispered, "Éowyn, I am here now. Wake from your nightmare. Tell me what troubles you."

She spoke, but her eyes remained shut tight. Her voice was raspy and sounded unnatural. It seemed like she talked in her sleep, yet she answered somewhat her husband's question. "There are graves, Faramir. A pit. A pit of graves. He is there, he keeps the graves. He tells me I too must die. Faramir..." Éowyn's voice trailed off.

For a moment, Faramir was puzzled as to who Éowyn was referring to when she said "He." Then it struck him, and his heart was filled with dread. He rocked Éowyn in his arms, hoping that she would wake soon. But her face only became even more anguished.

"Éowyn! Who is he, Éowyn? Who is he?" Faramir asked, afraid and uncertain as to what he could do. But he knew that if he was to help her, he would have to confirm that it was in fact him who was distressing her.

"He is their Lord, Faramir. Lord of the Wrai..." Éowyn choked before she could pronounce the word, but Faramir knew of who she was fearful of. He had been right. The Witch-King was haunting her dreams. He shuddered. Of the Lord of the Ringwraiths that she had killed, Éowyn had only spoke once before during the days of their marriage, and even that time, it had been an accident and she had quickly changed the subject. Faramir was full aware that the memory of that incident had not disappeared, that it never would, but he had never pressed the matter.

Yet he had never realised until now that she was plagued by him to such an extent. It all made sense now, why she seemed so tired and thin, and he cursed his ignorance once more. Éowyn had always reassured him that she was fine, and so Faramir's own losses and bad memories had blinded him from the scars his wife also continued to suffer. He took her hands in his, and was disheartened to find that they were extremely cold. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, as his wife's hands would not warm.

"Faramir. I shall die," Éowyn exclaimed. Her voice was high-pitched now.

"No! I will not let you, Éowyn," Faramir cried, his tears now falling openly. He wanted to reassure his wife, but he also needed to reassure himself. He could not bear to lose yet another person he loved. "Éowyn, you tell him that I command him to leave you alone."

"He laughs at you, Faramir. He laughs. He says...no, no, I cannot. I will burn, Faramir. I am burning."

"You are delirious, Éowyn. It is just a dream. Only a dream! Wake up," Faramir begged, his voice shaking. But as he stroked her face with his hand, he was dismayed to feel her cheek was indeed hot. It did feel as if she was burning up. As her breathing became ever more rough, Faramir knew he had to wake his wife, or she really would die in his arms.

Laying her gently back on the bed, Faramir stood up, panicked and madly searching for something that could wake her. Some cold water perhaps. However, there was none in the bedroom. He turned back to Éowyn. She was cold again, and shaking. "I will be back, my love. Fight him off. Please, Éowyn." Kissing her on the brow, Faramir rushed out of the room to find some water.

It was not easy however. Tears were blinding him now, and he could only stumble around in the darkness. The shadows around him seemed distorted and determined to prevent him from aiding his wife. After what seemed like an eternity, Faramir finally found a jug of cold water, and grabbing a cloth, he rushed back to the bedroom.

As he neared the door, Faramir noticed that all was silent again. Éowyn's raspy breathing had stopped. The cloth and jug fell forgotten to the floor. Faramir did not notice, nor care, about the water he was now standing in, for he was paralysed with fear and grief. He dared not to enter the room, for the sight of his dead wife would be unbearable. Surely his life would end as well.

Faramir's thoughts then turned to how he had failed her. His wife was dead, because of him. _You let your wife die. You failed her. Just like you failed your father. Your brother. You fail everyone you love, Faramir. You are worthless._

Knowing that he at least owed Éowyn a final goodbye, Faramir pushed away the fear in his heart and entered the silent bedroom, as if in a daze. Walking slowly towards his wife, he reached the bed and kneeled by her side. Overcome with tears, he reached for her hand and clasped it, laying down his head beside hers. So overwhelmed with sobs was the grieving Prince of Ithilien that he did not feel his hand being clasped back.

When he could cry no longer, Faramir whispered, "Please forgive me Éowyn, for failing you." Ready now to leave and inform someone of his wife's passing, he lifted his head.

"You have not failed me, Faramir. You could never fail me," Éowyn spoke gently. She faced her husband now, who looked incredulously at her, hardly believing that his wife was not dead. Her face was indeed very pale, but her voice and her breathing had returned back to normal. Her eyes too, were open, and though glistening with tears, they were also full of love. "It was you who saved me," Éowyn continued, "You told me to fight, and I did. My body did not want to, but my heart told me I had too. And I defeated him. For our love, Faramir."

She sat up, and beckoned for Faramir to sit beside her. He did not hesitate, and climbed into bed, laying his head on her shoulder with weariness and relief, and wrapping his hands around her waist.

"I thought I'd lost you, Éowyn," Faramir murmured softly.

Éowyn kissed her husband's head lovingly. "It was just a dream, Faramir. Only a dream." Looking down at her husband, she smiled. Faramir had fallen asleep.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I always liked both Faramir and Éowyn, but in recent days, after reading some high quality fics centring around the couple, I've really fallen in love with their pairing. And so I decided to add a fic of my own to the Faramir/Éowyn collection. It was inspired a lot from a recent dream I had, so I hope Faramir and Éowyn are still in character. Please review and tell me how I went. Greatly appreciated :) 

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